I just want to thank all of my reviewers. You guys keep me motivated! Please enjoy!
Bella
It is every bit as terrifying as I suspected.
It takes me a while to realise that the pale, beautiful woman in the full-length mirror's reflection is me. She is every bit as stunning as the Cullens, as the woman who took my humanity behind Charlie's house, and it unnerves me. When I finally figure out that this is no stranger, that the dark haired woman is me, I gasp, submerged in a heady cocktail of horror and fascination.
My skin is marble, pale as the moon, glowing dimly in the candlelight in Esme's bathroom. My thick, lustrous hair flows down to my waist, perfectly straight before curling softly around my breasts. My body is quite subtle in its differences, yet I notice that I curve more fully, both slender and curvaceous. I look more at ease in this new skin, rather than before, when I was awkward and gangly.
My face is the most different. I'm frightened by how estranged I feel from myself, unrecognisable. How will I ever get used to this level of beauty?
My eyes, which were once dark brown, are now a startling, bright shade of crimson, framed with thick, black lashes, like two frayed butterfly's wings. Below my wide eyes are subtle, lilac bruises, like that of the Cullens. My features are perfectly straight and in proportion with each other, balanced, and my face is still heart shaped, but my chin isn't so dramatically narrow in comparison with my prominent cheek bones. There is no blush colouring them now. I am pale all over, my chalkiness only starkly interrupted by my eyes and hair.
The only real recognisable feature I locate is my lips, still slightly out of balance. I touch them, smiling softly. I'm still me, I think. I hope.
I look at myself for a moment, before remembering that Edward is a mind reader. He seems like a true gentleman, but how do I know that he can ignore what he sees through the minds of others? I'm probably making him feel uncomfortable, mooning over my own naked reflection.
I turn around, embarrassed. I wrap my damp hair in a fluffy white towel before heading into Esme's bedroom, where she's left me some clothes. I find them folded neatly on the bedspread, topped with a silver comb, for my hair. I smile at the considerate gesture.
When I locate a scanty lace bra and panty set, my cheeks tingle in a way that is becoming familiar. I look at the label above the clasp and see that it is clearly a product of a designer brand. These Cullens obviously have more money than sense, and I feel uncomfortable accepting such extravagant gifts. I've never been one for designer wear.
Still, I feel it would be rude to say anything, so I slip them on, enjoying the feel of fine lace on my skin, which has now cooled. I nod in approval at the more simplistic grey jeans and deep blue sweater, even though they hint at designer origins. I bite my lip, suspecting that the sweater is cashmere. I decidedly avoid the label.
Everything fits perfectly. I will have to thank Alice for picking these up for me.
I run the comb through my hair before collecting my old clothes, leaving it on the bathroom counter. I blow out the candles before going out into the hall, my wet hair dripping on my sweater. I make my way down the stairs, in search of a place to throw my tattered clothes away. When I turn toward the living area, I unexpectedly run into Edward, literally slamming into him. Without a coherent thought I drop my clothes, a deafening hiss bubbling up my chest and out of my mouth as I crouch back against the wall, baring my teeth.
Immediately Edward apologises and I put my head in my hands in utter humiliation.
"No, I'm sorry," I insist, straightening out and grabbing my clothes. "What a stupid reaction. I just didn't hear you coming."
"Neither did I," he murmurs thoughtfully, his eyes tight. "That was my fault, I'm sorry...and it's not foolish to react that way, if anything...I think you react too calmly."
I bark out an incredulous laugh, thinking he's joking, before realising he's serious.
"Seriously? I just hissed at you," I mutter awkwardly. I cast my eyes downward before Edward chuckles lightly.
The sound is probably the most mesmerising I've heard yet.
"Yes, but you didn't even attack me. You're very placid, for being only a few hours old," he muses. He looks almost amused, but there's something else in his expression that I can't decipher.
I gaze up at him in horror. "Attack you? Is that the norm?"
He looks back down at me, his gaze intensifying. There is that same frustrated look he seems to favour with me.
"None of this is the norm, exactly, but you're reactions are certainly not like any newborn I've ever encountered."
Again, my cheeks tingle. Of course, I would be the oddball amongst mythical creatures. Nothing changes.
When I glance up at his perfect face, his eyes are once again burning with unmet expectations. I forcefully break away from his stare, eager to change the subject.
"I was just looking for a place to dispose of my clothes. They're unsalvageable," I laugh, but the sound is strangely shaky. I need to get away from this dazzling person before my mind betrays me too much.
His eyes alight with awareness. "Of course. Follow me."
I comply, my eyes tracing the muscles in his back as he leads me out the back, into a wide yard. I breathe in the taste of nature as I follow him round the side of the house, where a large, cubic, metal trash can resides. He slides it open with chalky, nimble fingers. I drop my raggedy clothes in, feeling as if the moment is oddly symbolic. Here I am, throwing my last shred of humaneness away, with a vampire in assistance. My old life is truly over, now.
When I turn my gaze up at him, I'm wondering if he's thinking the same thing.
"I can't hear you," Edward blurts suddenly. I stare at him, frowning slightly, confused.
"But I never said anything," I reply. His eyes bore into mine, taking my breath away.
He is, without a doubt, the most beautiful person I have ever seen in my life. It's very distracting.
"No, I can't hear you," he whispers, his voice filled with frustration and something like...wonder?
"I don't..." I shake my head quickly. What does he mean?
"Your thoughts," he clarifies. "I can't read your mind, Bella."
My eyebrows feel as if they rise right up to my hairline at this reveal. Edward can't hear my thoughts.
I try not to let him see how relieved I am to hear that.
We are silent for a moment, as I take this in. This is...bizarre.
"Has that ever happened before?" I whisper shyly. Why does this seem to bother him so much? Does he honestly think my thoughts could hold any interest to him? Or is my silence simply a discomfort?
"Never," he breathes. I catch myself leaning towards him, inhaling his sweet, honeysuckle and lilac scent. I pull myself back before I can make a total idiot of myself.
"That's so...odd. Do the others know?" I murmur thoughtfully, clearly recalling Carlisle requesting Edward monitor my mind on our hunt. If he'd known, he wouldn't have done that.
"No," he admits reluctantly. "I'm going to tell them tonight. Esme knows, now," he grins wryly.
"Damn super hearing," I laugh. "Do you have any theories?"
He looks frustrated again. "Nothing worth sharing. Perhaps I can only read AM frequencies and your mind is on the FM," he chuckles.
My lips turn down. Of course. I've always suspected there was a glitch in my brain. How upsetting to have that suspicion confirmed.
Edward turns to go back inside and I dither, unsure if I should follow him or not. I don't want to start taking on the qualities of a golden retriever, like Mike.
The thought of my high school acquaintances makes me feel somewhat emotional. Not that there was any real connection with my new school friends, but it's somehow painful to know that they think I'm dead, now. That'll give Jessica something to connect with Mike over, at least.
I think of Renee again. Of Charlie. My poor parents.
"Are you coming, Bella?" Edward asks, his eyes on mine. I nod, feeling like an intruder in this home.
"Thank you," I mumble as we enter the wide open space of the Cullen's pale furnished home. "For being so accepting of me, I mean. You all didn't have to do that."
I look away as Edward replies, his voice soft, unexpectedly tender. "It's the least we can do. We try our best to keep what humanity we have left."
I smile slightly in acknowledgement, thinking back to when we listened to Clair de Lune, walls apart. He had heard me losing myself in grief, and offered to turn the music off. That seems like more than basic humanity.
Esme bolts down the stairs at exactly the right moment, saving me from the tension I feel around this handsome vampire. We smile at each other as she stands in front of me, touching my arm in a caring gesture.
"How are you feeling, Bella? If you need to hunt again, just say."
I check my throat. It is a little stingy, but nothing unmanageable.
"I'm okay, for now, Esme. Thank you."
I gaze at the piano, by the staircase, my interest piqued.
"Do you play?" Esme asks, smiling with genuine warmth. I suddenly feel grateful that she is so much like a mother. It makes me feel more at ease.
"No," I laugh lightly. "I'm not particularly musical, but I do love some classical."
She grins, turning her attention to her son. "Well, Bella, you've got a classical genius standing right next to you. Perhaps you should play something for her, son?"
I glance up at the Greek god, confused by his almost shy expression. What does he possibly have to be shy about?
"You don't have to," I say quickly, unwilling to put him on the spot.
"I'd be happy to, if you'd like to hear some?"
My cheeks tingle. I suddenly feel shy myself, like I'm in the third grade, crushing on the cutest boy in class. I'm so glad he can't hear my embarrassingly pathetic thoughts.
"I'd love to," I murmur. In the corner of my eye, I see Esme smile widely. I get the feeling she might be playing the matchmaker, here, because as soon as Edward sits on the stool, she disappears.
I approach the piano, suddenly excited to hear him play. It occurs to me that I don't feel uncomfortable standing, that I don't need to lean on anything or shift my weight around. I'm entirely comfortable just standing statue-still by the piano, watching as Edward's long, white fingers poise above the right keys.
"Seeing as you enjoy Debussy," he smiles, before diving into the tune with ease.
When the music fills the air, I feel a pleasant tingling all over my skin, like I should be getting goose-pimples at the soaring melody. I watch, entranced as his fingers expertly dance over the keys, playing the piece as professionally as if he wrote it himself. I close my eyes, letting the soulful tune soothe my wounded heart. I recognise the song but don't know the name.
When it ends, Edward offers to play another and I accept, wanting this moment of tranquillity to go on. The next melody is slower, more sombre, soaring and dropping from high to low. I feel Edward's eyes on me and when I return his gaze, he appears once again curious.
I look away; confused by the way his eyes make me feel. I shouldn't be enjoying myself with this beautiful stranger. I should be home with Charlie, cooking him steaks and inwardly fretting over my distaste for Forks.
This isn't me, is it?
I let the beautiful music pour over me, sealing my wounds, like the venom that cured my spine. I let the bittersweet melody soothe my heartache, although it only serves to push my pain down deeper. My grief is like a balloon in my chest, trapped behind my ribcage, contracting, threatening the pop at the slightest influence.
I think about where I'll sleep tonight, wanting my own bed, before suddenly remembering that I will never sleep again. I won't ever rest my head on a pillow and drift away from my own awareness. I won't ever dream.
All I have is this new reality, now, and beautiful as it may be, my reality is a world of pain and loss.
"It'll be okay, Bella," Edward murmurs softly, reassuringly, seeming aware of the direction of my brooding. I look up, giving him a sad smile, feeling anything but.
"I thought you couldn't read my mind."
~o0o~
Later on, after Esme gives me the grand tour of the Cullen mansion, she says she has an important errand to run, something about blueprints. I see her and Edward having a sort of exchange. I assume he's listening to her thoughts, I just don't know why. Is he worried that he can't handle me on his own?
I feel like an animal, wild and unpredictable. I suppose that is really what I am. Edward had said I was placid, though. Maybe I'm a little different in that respect. Maybe that's my gift.
Or maybe I'm just numb, barely reacting, because I'm ignoring the nagging ache of my own turmoil.
Esme kisses both our cheeks before leaving and I feel that kiss penetrate my bones, reminding me of a mother's love.
I want my mother. I don't want a surrogate, and I don't want her to pretend to want me.
For a while, as I nurse my less than gracious thoughts, Edward and I just stand, still as statues, not looking at each other.
"I'm going to miss sleeping," I whisper, to no one in particular. Obviously, Edward responds, though, being the only person in the room.
"I still do, sometimes," he admits. "It will get easier, as time goes on."
"I'm sure it will," I respond flatly. "But will it become any less desirable? Am I going to spend my whole life pining for the things I don't have?"
I look at him when he doesn't respond for a second. He looks...unwilling. I know, then, that I am right.
"I think I'm thirsty, again," I say, automatically brushing my fingers against my throat. Edward appears undecided for a moment. I realise that he's probably not supposed to take me hunting without backup.
"I can wait, though..." I trail off.
"No, no, I'll take you," Edward says quietly, opening the door. "Just remember to follow my lead."
I nod in affirmation before doing just that, following behind him across the lawn, through the trees and over the river. We are able to run faster, this time, as Esme is not here. I gasp at the beauty, once again taken aback by the nature which envelopes us. As I run alongside Edward, I glance over at him to see that he is once again looking at me, rather than the bounty of nature.
I tell myself that his penetrative stare is either one of curiosity, or of scrutiny. He's surely just keeping his beady eye on me, ensuring that I don't veer off in another direction, intent on slaughtering the town.
I am surprised when he veers off in another direction, leading me to the right. I feel almost giddy as we begin running on rougher terrain, easily dodging rocks and giant roots.
"Where are we going?"
"Up a cliff," Edward grins crookedly, making my insides flutter. "There's a beautiful view up there. I think it might make you feel a little better."
I try not to let on how touched I am as we speed on. I glance nervously at Edward as we come to the steep, rocky cliff.
"Just go with it. You're more than strong enough to climb," he says, coaching me.
I take a deep, unnecessary breath, before stepping backward. I run and jump, smoothly grabbing onto the sharp rock with ease, before letting out a stunned laugh.
"I told you," Edward chuckles, joining me. I resist the urge to stick my tongue out as we scale the cliff's side, ending up on the first lip within seconds. I jump easily onto the edge, which is fairly spacious. I look up higher, noticing that there are many heights Edward and I could bound to.
He settles on this level, though, gracefully sitting himself down on the edge, his legs hanging earthward. I join him, leaving some room between us. We smile at each other and when I look out at the stunning view, I see Edward's smile stretch into another crooked grin in the corner of my eye.
"Beautiful," I breathe, looking out at the treetops, the grey clouds.
"I couldn't agree more."
In my peripheral vision, I notice that Edward is still looking at me as he says this.
After a few minutes of gazing at the horizon, I turn to him, seeking out some answers to the many questions that bubble under my lips.
"How old are you?"
He looks surprised by the question. Of course, there should be so many other things on my mind right now.
"I was changed when I was seventeen. I've been a vampire for over eighty years," he murmurs, his voice like silk.
Eighty years of immortality! Edward should be a very, very old man by now...or dead.
I'm taken aback by how repellent the thought of his absence is.
"Wow," I say stupidly, lost for better words.
"Who is the oldest in your family?" I fire another one at him, feeling like I already know the answer.
Edward smiles. "Carlisle."
"I thought as much. He seems very...wise," I murmur, feeling once again lost for appropriate words.
"Yes," he agrees. "He is very wise. He is also more compassionate than most humans could hope to be. If I'm being truthful, he is the heart of the family."
I smile, almost wistfully. "You're very lucky, then, to have a father like that. How old is he?"
He glances at me, wary of my reaction. "Over three-hundred years old."
You have got to be joking me.
I am truly speechless now. I gape at Edward, my mouth hanging open.
"Whoa...that's...old," I laugh shakily. "I definitely need to give him a little more respect, in that case. I'm pretty sure I screamed in his face yesterday."
I look away from Edward's face, which is filled with too much kindness and understanding. Too much compassion right now could bring my pain right up to the surface, which I am determinedly avoiding.
"Carlisle is experienced when it comes to transformations. Trust me, it takes a lot to faze him. You've got nothing to worry about."
"Hmm," I reply lowly. "I wouldn't say nothing."
For a while, we sit in silence, before I find myself confiding in this strange, beautiful boy.
"I wish I could see my father," I whisper, feeling paper thin and weak, rather than strong and unyielding, like granite.
"Perhaps one day, after we've moved on and you're a little older, we can return for a while. You won't be able to speak with him, or let him see you, but you could watch from afar," he offers, sounding all too aware of the fact that his suggestion is nowhere near enough to pacify my sadness.
"Perhaps," I respond, getting to my feet. My throat is burning a little more insistently now.
"Of course," Edward mutters, shaking his head. "You must be ravenous. I'm sorry, we'll go now."
"Don't be," I say, giving him a tentative smile. I want to show him that I am grateful, but it's difficult, when I feel this way. "You were right, this view is beautiful."
As we prepare to scale back down the cliff, something catches my eye in the distance. I focus on a small clearing, with a scattering of weeds sprouting from the grass. I see a man, dressed in a black police uniform, walking slowly across the clearing.
Edward says something, but I don't hear him. My eyes are on the man, with peach skin and dark curls, who walks in a familiar way.
My father. The man is my father.
The grief-filled balloon inside pops, sending my poorly concealed anguish to the surface.
"Charlie."